Chapter 115: Public Display of Affection

Peach Blossom Ditch is, in fact, Peach Blossom Valley, and Peach Blossom Town remains just that—Peach Blossom Town.

Peach Blossom Valley is nestled in the mountains behind the town, reportedly about ten miles away. The town itself is quite expansive, a maze of countless intersecting streets. Yet, the population is pitifully small, consisting of barely a hundred households, most of whom are elderly residents and children left behind by the younger generation.

Today, however, the town is teeming with people—so crowded that the streets are packed, and vehicles have been left parked miles away. Chu Tianfeng felt fortunate that he had stowed his car away early; otherwise, had he left it halfway up the mountain for a few months, it would be hard to say if even the four wheels would still be there by the time he returned.

The town runs roughly east to west, backed by a massive mountain range to the south and a sheer cliff to the north. On the western side of the town lies an enormous square. It is said that in the days when Peach Blossom Town was thriving with thousands of residents, everyone—men, women, and children—would gather there during holidays or special celebrations to sing and dance around bonfires.

Today, the square is no different. Large balloons float above it, and the perimeter is lined with colorful banners. Every single balloon and flag is emblazoned with a single, bold character: "Martial!" Chu Tianfeng didn't need to ask to know that this was the main venue.

Although it was still early, the square was already bustling. Martial artists gathered in small groups, chatting about the upcoming competition or whispering about the secret realm, their excitement palpable. Beyond them, numerous vendors had set up stalls around the square, selling local specialties, soy milk and fried dough sticks, various handicrafts, and much more.

On the south side of the square, two elevated platforms stood, each about twenty meters in length and width. At the entrance on the east side, a row of long tables covered in red cloth had been set up. Several staff members sat behind them, eagerly observing the long queues of people.

Chu Tianfeng made a quick inquiry and learned that the eastern platform was for Group A, while the western one was for Group B. The registration fees were steep: one hundred thousand for Group A and twenty thousand for Group B. Those who won in Group A would then have to pay an additional 3.2 million to enter the secret realm, while those in Group B had to pay one million each.

Because the lines were long and he hadn't had breakfast, Chu Tianfeng wandered over to the vendor area, bought a few pricey tea-boiled eggs, and strolled through the crowd while he ate. As he had done before, he kept the jade slip that masked his spiritual sense bound to the soul-nurturing wood, preventing any experts at the Yuantian stage from detecting Xiyazi. As for himself, he wasn't worried; his current cultivation was only at the eighth level of Qi Refining, equivalent to the late stage of Hua Jin, and he doubted anyone would be interested in a mere ant like him.

Truth be told, there were quite a few elderly vendors scattered across the square. Seeing their frail figures shivering in the cold wind, Chu Tianfeng’s sympathy was stirred. Passing an emaciated old woman, he saw a pile of rice beside her and, gritting his teeth, bought it all. Then, spotting an old man pushing a cart of strange-looking fruits—wild dried jujubes—he stomped his foot and bought the entire lot as well. After all, he might be short on many things, but money wasn't one of them.

Noticing some martial artists looking at him like he was an idiot, Chu Tianfeng simply took a gold necklace from his ring and put it on, then fished out several gold rings and filled the remaining eight fingers on his hands.

After stowing away the jujubes, Chu Tianfeng returned to the venue, where he noticed a small stall in a corner selling various iron tools. Five people were crowded around it, three of whom he recognized: Long Yuanhua, Long Fei, and Long Yue, accompanied by an older man and a younger man—presumably more members of the Long family. The older man had a long face and a head of white hair, his true energy surging with the aura of a Yuantian early-stage cultivator. The other young man resembled Long Fei but looked slightly older, possessing the cultivation of a mid-stage Hua Jin practitioner.

Seeing Long Fei put him in a good mood, so he walked over to join the crowd. The older man from the Long family noticed Chu Tianfeng approaching, but after a quick sweep of his spiritual sense revealed only a late-stage Hua Jin cultivator, he ignored him. Long Yuanhua, perhaps seeing his youth, paid him no mind either, and Long Yue, still veiled in a black scarf, didn't even lift her eyelids.

Only Long Fei didn't notice him; he was busy haggling with the stall owner over an iron pickaxe.

"That's it, forty bucks, I'll take four," Long Fei said, his voice as loud and straightforward as ever. The pickaxe was ordinary, usually selling for twenty or thirty down the mountain, so forty was a fair price.

"No way. I hauled these iron tools up from down the mountain; the transport alone cost me hundreds," the owner, a thin, malnourished-looking man in his fifties, protested.

"Brother, what do you need these pickaxes for?" Chu Tianfeng asked with feigned curiosity. He could have guessed without asking; his spiritual sense had already swept over several groups of martial artists, most of whom carried pickaxes or shovels, likely to dig for treasure in the secret realm.

Sure enough, Long Fei shot him a casual look and laughed, "Heh, I heard there are plenty of treasures in the secret realm. I'm buying these to dig them up. I wanted to help this guy out, but it seems he’s trying to fleece me."

Chu Tianfeng thought that since he didn't have a pickaxe either, buying one wouldn't be a bad idea. He squeezed into the stall, saying, "Boss, forty is fine. I'll take four too."

Before the owner could respond, a harsh voice rang out from behind: "I’ll pay fifty, and I want all of them!"

Chu Tianfeng didn't need to look to know which scoundrel was being difficult.

"Haha! If it isn't the broad-minded Young Master Chang?" Long Fei turned around, laughing loudly. "Young Master Chang, oh, and Uncle Zaitian, what are you doing here..."

"Flaunting your love!" Chu Tianfeng muttered under his breath.

"Hahaha!" Long Fei doubled over laughing. "Young Master Chang, stay away from me, I don't have a taste for the 'broken sleeve'."

Wang Lianchang and his group approached at a leisurely pace. Much like the Long family, there were five of them—two elders and three young men. The leading elder, also white-haired, was at the Yuantian early stage. The other elder was Wang Zaitian, still at the late stage of Xiantian. Among the three youths, the youngest was Wang Lianchang, a Hua Jin early-stage cultivator. The eldest, looking about thirty with a face similar to Lianchang’s, was arrogant and cold, sitting at the peak of Hua Jin. Curiously, he was holding a large, equally cold-looking wolfhound on a leash. The last youth was about twenty-five, at the mid-stage of Hua Jin.

"Fei, enough," Long Yue snapped, turning to greet the Wangs. "Grandfather Caizhang, Uncle Zaitian, Brother Yao, greetings!"

Wang Caizhang, the elder of the Wang family, nodded slightly and bowed to the leader of the Long family. "Brother Xiangtian, it’s been a while." Wang Zaitian followed behind, bowing to Long Xiangtian and Long Yuanhua, though his eyes remained fixed on Chu Tianfeng. He knew this was the culprit behind his "prolapse incident."

"Brother Caizhang!" Long Xiangtian returned the bow with Long Yuanhua.

After the formalities, Long Yue walked over to Brother Yao. "Brother Yao, I heard you were in seclusion recently. You must have broken through again?"

Wang Lianyao replied calmly, "Indeed."

"Brother Yao is truly something," Long Yue said with an expression of admiration. "Since you have the highest cultivation among all the participants, it seems the hundred spirit stones are already yours."

Wang Lianyao’s expression remained calm, but a hint of pride flickered in his eyes.

"Congratulations, Brother Caizhang," Long Xiangtian said with a trace of disappointment. "It seems the Wang family will take the lead once again."

Wang Caizhang glanced at Chu Tianfeng standing next to Long Fei and waved his hand. "A mere hundred spirit stones; I doubt either of our families cares for them. However, it’s only natural for these young people, who have trained so hard for twenty years, to want to prove themselves. Brother Xiangtian, Nephew Yuanhua, why don't we step aside and have a chat?"

"My thoughts exactly!" Long Xiangtian smiled. The four elders walked away, lighting cigarettes as they went.

"The chrysanthemum is miserable, the ground is full of wounds, your smile has already withered," Long Fei sang softly as soon as the elders were out of earshot.

"Fei!" Long Yue hissed, turning to Wang Lianyao. "Brother Yao, I'm sorry, he didn't mean it."

A cold light flashed in Wang Lianyao’s eyes. "It's fine."

"Hmph!" Wang Lianchang gritted his teeth. "Long Fei, if you’ve got guts, I’ll see you in the Misty Zone. One on one!"

"Sure! Just don't cry when you lose!" Long Fei replied nonchalantly.

"Hey! Are you guys buying or not?" the stall owner interrupted. "If not, move along, don't block my business."

"Buying, of course," Long Fei turned back and pointed at Chu Tianfeng. "Like we said, forty bucks each, we'll take eight."

"Hold on, boss. I’ll pay fifty, and I’ll take everything you have," Wang Lianchang pushed forward, glaring.

The owner’s face lit up as he hurriedly bent down to count the pickaxes.

"One hundred! I’m taking the whole stall!" Chu Tianfeng declared, thrusting his ten ring-covered fingers into everyone’s faces, rubbing them together.

"Boss, I’ll buy every single iron tool you have. Flat price, twenty thousand!" Wang Lianchang retorted with a cold snort. Though he had lost to Chu Tianfeng before, he had strong backing today and wasn't afraid.

"One hundred thousand!" Chu Tianfeng didn't back down, driving the price into the stratosphere. There were only seventy or eighty items on the stall, usually worth three thousand at most. Wang Lianchang’s offer was already an astronomical price, yet Chu Tianfeng had just upped the ante to a hundred thousand!

A tycoon! A tycoon from the Middle East! The owner stared at Chu Tianfeng with such excitement that he would have sold himself if he could.

"Two hund..." Wang Lianchang was so worked up he nearly blurted out two hundred thousand.

"Lianchang, is your skin itching for a beating again?" Wang Lianyao interrupted coldly.

"I..." Wang Lianchang was unwilling, but he dared not challenge Wang Lianyao.

Long Fei laughed again, while Long Yue frowned at Chu Tianfeng, feeling a strange sense of familiarity with the scene.

Chu Tianfeng ignored them all. Whistling, he pulled out a stack of RMB and tossed it onto the stall. "One hundred thousand. Count it yourself."

The owner picked up the money, his whole body trembling. "No need to count! The stall is yours!" With that, he grabbed the cash and bolted like a rabbit.

Chu Tianfeng rolled his eyes. The "stall" was just a piece of plastic tarp; the owner was shameless enough to offer it, but Chu Tianfeng was too embarrassed to take it. He divided four shovels and four pickaxes for Long Fei, then loaded the rest onto a small trolley he found, pushed it into a corner, and stowed everything into his ring when no one was looking.